


The Tamrielic Library

by dark_brohood



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls I: Arena, Elder Scrolls II: Daggerfall, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Altmer (Elder Scrolls), Argonians (Elder Scrolls), Ayleids (Elder Scrolls), Black Marsh (Elder Scrolls), Bosmer (Elder Scrolls), Bretons (Elder Scrolls), Cyrodiil (Elder Scrolls), Dunmer (Elder Scrolls), Elsweyr (Elder Scrolls), Hammerfell (Elder Scrolls), High Rock (Elder Scrolls), Imperials (Elder Scrolls), Khajiit (Elder Scrolls), Morrowind (Elder Scrolls), Multi, Nords (Elder Scrolls), Orsimer (Elder Scrolls), Redguards (Elder Scrolls), Skyrim (Elder Scrolls), Summerset Isles (Elder Scrolls), Valenwood (Elder Scrolls), Wrothgar (Elder Scrolls)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 14,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_brohood/pseuds/dark_brohood
Summary: The many, many, many books, notes, and journals that exist in the Elder Scrolls universe. I will be uploading one a day, series will be uploaded together succinctly, and they will be uploaded randomly.You can request which book to be uploaded next.I will be putting warnings for whatever you guys ask for, just comment it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. The Wild Elves

**Author's Note:**

> Appearances: Daggerfall, Oblivion, Skyrim

In the wilds of most every province of Tamriel, descended philosophically if not directly from the original inhabitants of the land, are the Ayleids, commonly called the Wild Elves. While three races of Elven stock--the Altmer (or High Elves), the Bosmer (or Wood Elves), and the Dunmer (or Dark Elves)--have assimilated well into the new cultures of Tamriel, the Ayleids and their brethren have remained aloof toward our civilisation, preferring to practice the old ways far from the eyes of the world.

The Wild Elves speak a variation of Old Cyrodilic, opting to shun the Tamrielic and separating themselves from the mainstream of Tamriel even further than the least urbanising of their Elven cousins. In temperament they are dark-spirited and taciturn--though this is from the point of view of outsiders (or "Pellani" in their tongue), and doubtless they act differently within their own tribes.

Indeed, one of the finest sages of the University of Gwilyn was a civilised Ayleid Elf, Tjurhane Fyrre (1E2790-2E227), whose published work on Wild Elves suggests a lively, vibrant culture. Fyrre is one of the very few Ayleids to speak freely on his people and religion, and he himself said "the nature of the Ayleid tribes is multihued, their personalities often wildly different from their neighbour[ing] tribes" (Fyrre, T., Nature of Ayleidic Poesy, p. 8, University of Gwilym Press, 2E12).

Like any alien culture, Wild Elves are often feared by the simple people of Tamriel. The Ayleids continue to be one of the greatest enigmas of the continent of Tamriel. They seldom appear in the pages of written history in any role, and then only as a strange sight a chronicler stumbles upon before they vanish into the wood. When probably fiction is filtered from common legend, we are left with almost nothing. The mysterious ways of the Ayleids have remained shrouded since before the First Era, and may well remain so for thousands of years to come.


	2. The Pig Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Daggerfall, Morrowind, Oblivion, Skyrim, Online

No one--not the oldest Dunmer of Mount Dagoth Ur or the Ancient Sage of Solitude himself--can recall a time when the Orc did not ravage our fair Tamriel. Whatever foul and pestilent Daedra of Oblivion conjured them up could scarcely have created a more constant threat to the well-being of the civilised races of Tamriel than the obnoxious Orc.

Orcs are thankfully easy to recognise from other humanoids by their size--commonly forty pertans in height and fifteen thousand angaids in weight--their brutal pig-like features, and their stench. They are consistently belligerent, morally grotesque, intellectually moronic, and unclean. By all rights, the civilised races of Tamriel should have been able to purge the land of their blight eras ago, but their ferocity, animal cunning, and curious tribal loyalty have made them inevitable as leeches in a stagnant pool.

Tales of Orcish barbarity precede written record. When Jastyaga wrote of the Order of Diagna's joining the armies of Daggerfall and Sentinel "to hold at bay the wicked Orcs in their foul Orsinium fastness... and burn aught in cleansing flame" in 1E950, she assumed that any reader would be aware of the savagery of the Orcs. When the siege was completed thirty years later, after the death of many heroes including Gaiden Shinji, and the destruction of Orsinium scattered the Orcish survivors throughout the Wrothgarian Mountains, she further wrote, "The free peoples rejoiced for that their ancient fell enemy was dispersed into diverse parts." Obviously, the orcs had been terrorising the region of the Iliac Bay at least since the early years of the First Era.


	3. Fav'te's War of Betony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Daggerfall

Could there be a better proof of the natural perversity of Bretons than their conduct before, during, and after what history will remember as the War of Betony? By the most depraved of motivations, the most despicable of tactics, and the more ungentlemanly of triumphs, the kingdom of Daggerfall changed the nature of warfare in the Iliac Bay and perhaps over all of Tamriel. In Sentinel, we call the recent carnage the Siege of Betony, but as the book of history is writ by the victors, let us speak instead of the War of Betony.

Redguards by their nature are a modest and practical people. We are not Phlegmatic like the High Elves, nor cowardly like the Wood Elves and Khajiiti. But what would infuriate and enrage the swaggering, vainglorious Nords and Bretons would not merit a shrug from a Redguard. Had any Breton kingdom possessed the little island of Betony, it would have been covetously guarded. Betony's trade would have been seriously restricted; its religion subjugated; its people bound by active and constant pledges and duties of vassalage. But Betony was not a Breton dominion. Betony was part of the Kingdom of Sentinel.

King Lysandus--may the Old Ones continue to torment his soul for his wickedness!--saw the prosperous island which is closer to his land than to Sentinel, and his black heart turned to avarice. Through threats, lies, acts of piracy and, finally, invasion, Daggerfall illegally took possession of the Island of Betony. His court sorceress, the Lady Medora, his enchantress mother, and other experienced counsellors were horrified by the brutality of his campaign and begged him to abandon his tyrannical act of war. Gradually, all dissenters were removed from court. None but the ignorant and the warmongers remained.

Our late King Camaron tried to employ civil diplomacy with Daggerfall, but in the end, he made the former declaration of war. Daggerfall and Sentinel have fought many times in their two thousand years of coexistence, and Camaron knew the black magic and espionage the Bretons considered honest warfare. Never debasing the Sentinel character by duplicating the Breton villainy, Camaron knew best how to combat Lysandus. King Lysandus' knavish battle tactics were even more perfidious than his ancestors', and the war continued to rage until it began to involve more than Sentinel and Daggerfall.

Lord Graddock, ruler of Reich Gradkeep, acted as conciliator between Sentinel and Daggerfall, and eventually convinced both monarchs to meet and make peace. The ill-fated Treaty of Gradkeep began civilly; the terms of peace were discussed, agreed on, and set to paper. The terms were excessively generous. Camaron had agreed to give up some of his rights to Betony in order to placate the madness of Lysandus and bring peace back to the Iliac Bay. It was not until King Camaron read the Treaty he was about to sign that he realised the outrageous perfidy of the Bretons: the Treaty had actually been purposefully miswritten by the Daggerfall scribe in a desperate and ignominious attempt to trick Camaron into signing a contract different from the one to which he had agreed. The castle of Reich Gradkeep erupted into bloodbath, and the war continued.

The Battle of Cryngaine Field was the tragic ending of the senseless war of attrition. The Cryngaine Field is located in between the Yeorth Burrowland and the Ravennian Forest where the armies of Sentinel and Daggerfall respectively made camp after the massacre at Reich Gradkeep. As the battle began, Daggerfall proved that she had some foul Daedric magical tricks left by blinding the Redguard army with a wall of mist. Lysandus did not have the opportunity to gloat over his cozenage for long, for the sure arm of a Sentinel archer struck him in the throat even through the thick, swirling fog. Lysandus' son, Gothryd, who had spent the battle in lugubrious relaxation, was crowned without ceremony, and thereupon demanded a duel with King Camaron. Camaron was many years Gothryd's senior, and though a superior warrior, was exhausted from the endless warfare the boy king had been spared. Nevertheless, as a point of honour, our king agreed to the duel. The new king of Daggerfall, by dirty trick and black magic, managed to backstab our king before the duel ever began. Thus, the victor of Cryngaine Field, and the War of Betony, was Daggerfall.

Daggerfall's wickedness continued even after her inglorious victory. While the widow queen of Sentinel, Her Majesty Akorithi, mourned and tried to mend her shattered lands, Gothryd demanded the Princess of Sentinel as a hostage of war. To save her homeland, the Princess Aubk'i agreed to leave Sentinel and even marry the murderer of her father. But we true Redguards of Sentinel know where her love and honour lies. The Queen of Daggerfall is the Princess of Sentinel first and foremost.


	4. Sottilde's Code Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Morrowind

### Original

SSF ZAFL  
DVWDTQDVFQE TYLSE

BSQ FOF  
TZSFHK TOY PCJEK NSZUVWBSR

EAL DVFQE GX  
SWSHL LCLQS

XKH ZQG  
LGSBFY GXS PAXWC RSXINOFSP

IDV AWD  
FGEF PAXWC

BOK DWKB  
SUGZD PCJEK

### Decoded

AIR LOFT  
THIRTYTHREE BOXES

BAG RAT  
THIRTY TWO BOXES DELIVERED

SAT THREE ON  
EIGHT BOXES

FAT LEG TWENTY ONE BOXES DELIVERED

ILL MIR FOUR BOXES

NAY DEAN EIGHT BOXES


	5. A Story History of Augmented Craftworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Battlespire

That others might know, and be warned and witful, those devices called "augmented" are special, and deserving of special praise, for they bear multiple enchantments, the more economically to aid the enchanter warrior is his daily labours.

The BattleAxe of Augmented Red Wisdom bears enchantment enhancing the skills of DESTRUCTION, and does Major Frost Damage to the enemy.

The BattleAxe of Augmented Swiftblade bears enchantments enhancing the skills of SHORTBLADE, and does Minor Frost Damage to the enemy.

The Broadsword of Augmented Leaping grants benefits in the disciplines of JUMPING, and, when striking a target, causes Minor Frost Damage.

The Broadsword of Augmented Unseen Wisdom grants benefits in the disciplines of THAUMATURGY, and, when striking a target, causes Medium Fire Damage.

The Claymore of Augmented Fleetness affords some abilities in the arts of RUNNING, and causes Medium Frost Damage to a victim on contact.

The Claymore of Augmented Unknown Wisdom affords some abilities in the arts of MYSTICISM, and causes Major Fire Damage to a victim on contact.

The CrossBow of Augmented Sureflight affords some abilities in the arts of MISSILE, and causes Medium Magic damage to a victim on contact.

The Dagger of Augmented Stalking grants benefits in the disciplines of STEALTH, and, when striking a target, causes Minor Fire Damage.

The Dagger of Augmented Green Wisdom grants benefits in the disciplines of RESTORATION, and, when striking a target, causes Minor Magic Damage.

The Javelin of the Augmented Dolphin bears enchantments enhancing the skills of SWIMMING, and does Medium Fire Damage to the enemy.

The LongBow of Augmented Smiting grants benefits in the disciplines of BLUNTWEAPON, and, when striking a target, causes Medium Magic Damage.

The Longsword of Augmented Surprise bears enchantments enhancing the skills of BACKSTABBING, and does Major Fire Damage to the enemy.

The Mace of Augmented Golden Wisdom affords some abilities in the arts of HANDTOHAND, and causes Major Frost Damage to a victim on contact.

The Short Sword of the Augmented Swimmer affords some abilities in the arts of SWIMMING, and causes Medium Fire Damage to a victim on contact.

The Short Sword of Augmented Silver Wisdom affords some abilities in the arts of ILLUSION, and causes Medium Magic Damage to a victim on contact.

The ShortBow of Augmented Deep Biting bears enchantments enhancing the skills of AXE, and does Minor Magic Damage to the enemy.

The WarAxe of Augmented Hewing grants benefits in the disciplines of LONGBLADE, and, when striking a target, causes Medium Frost Damage.


	6. Dunmer of Skyrim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while, I've been busy. I'm going to be posting up to date though so I'm going to be posting a lot today.
> 
> Appearances: Skyrim

“Dunmer.”

That is our name. Yet you deny us even this courtesy. You, and the white-skinned, jaundice-haired apes of this godforsaken frozen wilderness. To you Nords, we are the grey ones, the ashen-skinned, the “dark elves” of Morrowind who have as much place in your land as an infection in an open wound.

Oh yes, we have read your great cultural work, “Nords of Skyrim,” in which you extol the many virtues of your people and province, and invite any visitors to come experience your homeland for themselves. Well come we did, Nords, and the reception was less than was promised–but exactly what we expected.

So I, Athal Sarys, Dunmer and immigrant to Skyrim, have decided to answer your beloved book with a work of my own. And let all who read it know that Nords are not the only race to reside in this cold and inhospitable realm. For we dark elves have come, and little by little, shall claim Skyrim as our own.

But where, you may ask, have we taken up residence? Why none other than the ancient city of Windhelm, once the capital of the First Empire. Yes, Nords, in the shadow of your own Palace of the Kings, where the Nord hero Ysgramor once held court, we now thrive. Oh yes. Your beloved Five Hundred Companions may have driven our ancestors from Skyrim, but that was then. This is now.

Indeed, one might be surprised as to just how well we’ve settled into Windhelm. The district once known as the Snow Quarter is thus named no more. Now, they call it the Grey Quarter, for such is the reality of the Dunmer occupation. The district is now populated entirely by mu kind, a victory not lost on its residents.

Oh, but the peaceful occupation goes even further. Thirsty? You’ll find no Nord mead hall in the Grey Quarter. But the spirits flow well enough in the New Gnisis Cornerclub. Seeking a respected family? You’ll find no Gray-Manes within these walls. But perhaps you’d like to pay a visit to the home of Belyn Hlaalu, descendant of one of the most noble houses in all of Morrowind. Ah, but no. You Nords don’t come to the Grey Quarter, do you? You fear our streets as you fear our skin.

So now, “children of Skyrim,” you have the truth of it. You may call this province home, but you can no sooner claim to own it than a cow can claim to own its master’s field. You are just another breed of domestic animal, grazing stupidly while higher beings plot your slaughter.


	7. Mythic Dawn Commentaries 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Oblivion, Skyrim

Greetings, novitiate, and know first a reassurance: Mankar Camoran was once like you, asleep, unwise, protonymic. We mortals leave the dreaming-sleeve of birth the same, unmantled save for the symbiosis with our mothers, thus to practice and thus to rapprochement, until finally we might through new eyes leave our hearths without need or fear that she remains behind. In this moment we destroy her forever and enter the demesne of Lord Dagon.

Reader, this book is your door to that demesne and though you be a destroyer you must still submit to locks. Lord Dagon would only have those clever enough to pause; all else the Aurbis claims in their fool running. Walk first. Heed. The impatience you feel is your first slave to behead.

Enter as Lord Dagon has written: come slow and bring four keys. Know that then you are royalty, a new breed of destroyer, whose garden shall flood with flowers known and unknown, as it was in the mythic dawn. Thus shall you return to your first primal wail and yet come out different. It shall this time be neonymbiosis, master akin to Master, whose Mother is miasma.

Every quarter has known us, and none bore our passing except with trembling. Perhaps you came to us through war, or study, or shadow, or the alignment of certain snakes. Though each path matters in its kind, the prize is always thus: welcome, novitiate, that you are here at all means that you have the worthiness of kings. Seek thy pocket now, and look! There is the first key, glinting with the light of a new dawn.

Night follows day, and so know that this primary insight shall fall alike unto the turbulent evening sea where all faiths are tested. Again, a reassurance: even the Usurper went under the Iliac before he rose up to claim his fleet. Fear only for a second. Shaken belief is like water for a purpose: in the garden of the dawn we shall breathe whole realities.

Enter as Lord Dagon has written: come slow and bring four keys. Our Order is based on the principles of his mighty razor: Novitiate, Questing Knight, Chaplain, and Master. Let the evil ones burn in its light as if by the excess of our vision. Then shalt our Knowledge go alright. However, recall that your sight is yet narrow, and while you have the invitation, you have not the address.

My own summons came through a book Lord Dagon wrote himself in the deserts of rust and wounds. Its name is the ‘Mysterium Xarxes’, Aldmeretada aggregate, forefather to the wife of all enigma. Each word is razor-fed and secret, thinner than cataclysms, tarnished like red-drink. That I mention it at all is testament to your new rank, my child. Your name is now cut into its weight.

Palace, hut, or cave, you have left all the fog worlds of conception behind. Nu-mantia! Liberty! Rejoice in the promise of paradise!

Endlessly it shall form and reform around you, deeds as entities, all-systems only an hour before they blood to zero sums, flowering like vestments, divine raiment worn to dance at Lord Dagon’s golden feet. In his first arm, a storm, his second the rush of plagued rain, the third all the tinder of Anu, and the fourth the very eyes of Padhome. Feel uplifted in thine heart that you have this first key, for it shall strike high and low into the wormrot of false heavens.

Roaring I wandered until I grew hoarse with the gospel. I had read the mysteries of Lord Dagon and feeling anew went mad with the overflow. My words found no purchase until I became hidden. These were not words for the common of Tamriel, whose clergy long ago feigned the very existence of the Dawn. Learn from my mistake; know that humility was Mankar Camoran’s original wisdom. Come slow, and bring four keys.

Offering myself to that daybreak allowed the girdle of grace to contain me. When my voice returned, it spoke with another tongue. After three nights I could speak fire.

Red-drink, razor-fed, I had glimpsed the path unto the garden, and knew that to inform others of its harbour I had to first drown myself in search’s sea. Know ye that I have found my fleet, and that you are the flagship of my hope. Greetings, novitiate, Mankar Camoran was once you, asleep, unwise, protonymic, but Am No More. Now I sit and wait to feast with thee on all the worlds of this cosmos. Nu-mantia! Liberty!


	8. Mythic Dawn Commentaries 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Oblivion, Skyrim

Whosoever findeth this document, I call him brother.

Answers are liberations, where the slaves of Malbioge that came to know Numantia cast down their jailer king, Maztiak, which the Xarxes Mysterium calls the Arkayn. Maztiak, whose carcass was dragged through the streets by his own bone-walkers and whose flesh was opened on rocks thereon and those angels who loved him no longer did drink from his honeyed ichors screaming “Let all know free will and do as they will!”

Your coming was foretold, my brother, by the Lord Dagon in his book of razors. You are to come as Idols drop away from you one by one. You are exalted in eyes that have not yet set on you; you, swain to well-travelled to shatterer of mantles. You, brother, are to sit with me in Paradise and be released of all unknowns. Indeed, I shall show you His book and its foul-and-many-feathered rubric so that you can put into symbols what you already know: the sphere of destruction is but the milk of the unenslaved. I fault not your stumbling, for they are expected and given grace by the Oils. I crave not your downfalls, though without them you might surpass me even in the coming Earth of all infinities. Lord Dagon wishes you no ills but the momentous. And as He wants, you must want, and so learn from the pages of God this: the Ritual of Want:

Whisper to earth and earth, where the meddlers take no stones except to blood, as blood IS blood, and to the cracking bone, as bone IS bone, and so to crack and answer and fall before the one and one, I call you Dragon as brother and king.

Hides of dreugh: 7 and 7, draught of Oil, 1 and 1, circles drawn by wet Dibellites: three concentric and let their lower blood fall where it may, a birth watched by blackbirds: Hearthfire 1st. Incant the following when your hearing becomes blurred:

Enraptured, he who finally goes unrecorded.

Recorded, the slaves that without knowing turn the Wheel.

Enslaved, all the children of the Aurbis As It Is.


	9. Mythic Dawn Commentaries 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Oblivion, Skyrim

The Tower touches all the mantles of Heaven, brother-noviates, and by its apex one can be as he will. More: be as he was and yet changed for all else on that path that walk after. This is the third key of Nu-mantia and the secret of how mortals become makers, and makers back to mortals. The Bones of the Wheel need their flesh, and that is mankind’s heirloom.

Oath-breakers beware, for their traitors run through the nymic-paths, runner dogs of prolix gods. The Dragon’s Blood have hidden ascension in six-thousands years of aetherial labyrinth, which is Arena, which they yet deny is Oathbound. By the Book, take this key and pierce the divine shell that encloses the mantle-takers! The skin of gold! SCARAB AE AURBEX!

Woe to the Oath-breakers! Of the skin of gold, the Xarxes Mysteriuum says “Be fooled not by the forlorn that ride astray the roadway, for they lost faith and this losing was caused by the Aedra who would know no other planets.” Whereby the words of Lord Dagon instructs us to destroy these faithless. “Eat or bleed dry the gone-forlorn and gain that small will that led them to walk the path of Godhead at the first. Spit out or burn to the side that which made them delay. Know them as the Mnemoli.”

Every new limb is paid for by the under-known. See, brother, and give not more to the hydra.

Reader, you will sense a shadow-choir soon. The room you are in right now will grow eyes and voices. The candle or spell-light you read this by will become gateways for the traitors I have mentioned. Scorn them and fear not. Call them names, call out their base natures. I, the Mankar of stars, am with you, and I come to take you to my Paradise where the Tower-traitors shall hang on glass wracks until they smile with the new revolution.

That is your ward against the Mnemoli. They run blue, through noise, and shine only when the earth trembles with the eruption of the newly-mantled. Tell them “Go! GHARTOK AL MNEM! God is come! NUMI MORA! NUM DALAE MNEM!”

Once you walk in the Mythic it surrenders its power to you. Myth is nothing more than first wants. Unutterable truth. Ponder this while searching for the fourth key.

Understand laws of the arcanature will fall away like heat. “First Tower Dictate: render the mutant bound where he may do no more harm. As God of the Mundus, alike shall be his progeny, split from their divine sparks. We are Eight time eight Exarchs. Let the home of Padomay see us as sole exit.”

CHIM. Those who know it can reshape the land. Witness the home of the Red King Once Jungled.

He that enters Paradise enters his own Mother. AE ALMA RUMA! The Aurbis endeth in all ways.

Endeth we seek through our Dawn, all endeth. Falter now and become one with the wayside orphans that feed me. Follow and I shall adore you from inside. My first daughter ran from the Dagonite road. Her name was Ruma and I ate her with no bread, and made another, which learned, and I loved that one and blackbirds formed her twin behind all time.

Starlight is your mantle, brother. Wear it to see by and add its light to Paradise.


	10. Mythic Dawn Commentaries 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Oblivion, Skyrim

May the holder of the fourth key know the heart thereby; the Mundex Terrene was once ruled over solely by the tyrant dreugh-kings, each to their own dominion, and borderwars fought between their slave oceans. They were akin to the time-totems of old, yet evil, and full of mockery and profane powers. No one that lived did so outside of the sufferance of the dreughs.

I give my soul to the Magna Ge, sayeth the joyous in Paradise, for they created Mehrunes the Razor in secret, in the very bowels of Lyg, the domain of the Upstart who vanishes. Though they came from diverse waters, each Get shared sole purpose: the artifice a prince of good, spinning his likeness in random swath, and imbuing him with Oblivion’s most precious and scarce asset: hope.

Deathlessly I intone from paradise: Mehrunes the Thieftaker, Mehrunes Godsbody, Mehrunes the Red Arms That Went Up! Nu-Mantia! Liberty!

Deny not that these days shall come again, my novitiates! For as Mehrunes threw own Lyg and cracked his face, declaring each of the nineteen and nine and nine oceans Free, so shall he crack the serpent crown of the Cyrodiils and make federation!

All will change in these days as it was changed in those, for with by the magic word Nu-Mantia a great rebellion rose up and pulled down the towers of CHIM-EL GHARJYG, and the templars of the Upstart were slaughtered, and blood fell like dew from the upper wards down to the lowest pits, where the slaves with maniacal faces took chains and teeth to their jailers and all hope was brush-fire.

Your Dawn listens, my Lord! Let all the Aurbis know itself to be Free! Mehrunes is come! There is no dominion save free will!

Suns were riven as your red legions moved from Lyg to the hinterlands of chill, a legion for each Get, and Kuri was thrown down and Djaf was thrown down and Horma-Gile was crushed with coldsalt and forevermore called Hor and so shall it be again under the time of Gates.

Under the mires, Malbioge was thrown down, that old City of Chains, slaked in newbone-warmth and set Free. Galg and Mor-Galg were thrown down together in a single night of day and shall it be again under the time of Gates.

Nothing but woe for NRN which has become The Pit and seven curses on its Dreugh, the Vermae NI-MOHK! But for it the Crusades would be as my lord’s Creation, Get by the Ge and do as thou wilt, of no getters but your own conscience! Know that your Hell is Broken, people of the Aurbis, and praise the Nu-Mantia which is Liberty!


	11. The Betrayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Skyrim

The Betrayed  
by Engwe Emeloth

And when the snow prince fell to the ground.  
The ice elves divided above and below.  
Now vanquished and brutally bound.  
One moment had shattered all they did know.

The once cool wind on their skin.  
Now replaced with the heat of the flame.  
And a pride once felt deep within.  
Forgotten along with their name.

Torn from their home of ice and frost.  
Thrown into the pitch black dread of night.  
Living in fear as their minds become lost.  
As their eyes began dimming to the light.

Chained and enslaved.  
What once was light turned to blackness.  
Alone and betrayed.  
Sinking deeper into madness.


	12. Harvest's End, 3E 172

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Battlespire, Online

The book contains many pages of close, tightly-written scribbling. the earliest entry is marked “Harvest’s End, 3E 172.” Only the first few pages make sense. Later entries are incoherent and illegible. In the first few pages you learn the basic story of Chimere, Master Sorcerer, Summoner, and Direnni retainer, and how he treated with Lord Dagon, tricked him, and paid the price of his victory.

Chimere Graegyn was a retainer of the ambitious Direnni clan. The Direnni derived the bulk of their power from their traffickings with Daedra, a very profitable but risky path to success. Chimere was perhaps the cleverest and most ambitious of the Direnni summoners. He dared to scheme against Lord Dagon, and won. When his trick succeeded, Dagon was cast into Oblivion. However, in the instant of his betrayal, Dagon struck out against the mortal who tricked him. Chimere’s pact assured that he would live forever in his home town among the happy voices of his friends and countrymen. Twisting the literal words of Chimere’s pact, Dagon scooped up tiny Caecilly Island (a small island off the coast of Northmoor) and hurled it into the void. All Chimere’s friends and countrymen were instantly killed, though the sounds of their voices remained to torment Chimere’s memory. Chimere was condemned to live forever, to grow progressively old and crippled with arthritis, and to contemplate the tragic consequences of his defiance of fate and fortune in cheating a Daedra Lord.

In the earlier, more lucid section of the journal, you also find other information of relevance to your current plight.

Searching for details of Chimere’s successful defeat of Dagon, you find the following:

The Armour of the Saviour’s Hide: Created by the Daedra Lord Malacath, this armour has the marvellous property of turning the blow of an oathbreaker. Chimere tricked Dagon into swearing an oath against the Powers which he had no intention of keeping. The Hide of the Saviour turned Dagon’s titanic fury long enough for Chimere to deliver his own attack–an incantation invoked upon Dagon’s “Protonymic” (i.e. Incantatory True Name). Unfortunately, like many of Malacath’s gifts, the armour is a mixed blessing. It also makes its wearer exceptionally vulnerable to magical attacks, so one should only wear it for particular occasions.

Dagon’s Protonymic: Chimere used Dagon’s Protonymic in an incantation to invoke a sorcery that would gradually drain all of Dagon’s power into the void. Chimere miscalculated, however, not realising that Dagon’s resistance could slow the draining of his power, even if it could not stop it. As a result, Dagon had the time to curse Chimere with a literal fulfilment of the terms of his bargain with Chimere. Rather than let his power drain into the void, Dagon cast it all into his curse. As a result, Caecilly Island was cast into the void, all its citizens were horribly slain, and Chimere was condemned to live forever among the ruins of his greatest ambition.

You can also find the following details concerning the Rituals of the Hunt:

The Chapel of the Innocent Quarry: Chimere believes that Dagon had Caecilly Island established as the site of the Chapel of the Innocent Quarry to personally mock and torment Chimere. The green crystal structure was created by enchantments, and is the only building on the island erected since it was ripped from Tamriel and loosed to the void.

The Spear: Supposedly the Spear of Bitter Mercy used in the Wild Hunts could not be handled by any mortal or immortal save the ones sanctified to the Hunt and bound by its strictures. However, Chimere has determined that though the Spear’s power is great, it is not unlimited, and that certain enchanted items–for instance, the Armour of the Saviour’s Hide, forged by Malacath–are sufficient to protect a mortal or immortal bearer from its maleficent energies.


	13. Way of the Exposed Palm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Oblivion

Untrained pugilists are known to make a club of the hand and beat on their opponents like a drum. It is a truly uncouth way to victory. The way of the exposed palm is far more sophisticated and far more deadly.

Consider this question. A man is struck in the chest by the flat of a plate. There is a small bruise but he is otherwise unharmed. Now break the plate and strike him in the chest with a shard using the same force. Now the man is dead or grievously wounded. How can this be? How can a small object harm more than a larger?

This essential point is the first finger of the way of the exposed palm. The five part way is concentration, reaction, equilibrium, speed, breath control. To master unarmed combat all five digits must be mastered.

The parable of the man and the plate is concentration. All of the blow is concentrated into a small point. Therefore it is more potent. To strike with just the thumb can be more deadly that to strike with the whole fist. However, only the highly trained fighter can do this.

The second aspect of concentration is the mental discipline to think hard about what is being done. Distractions are ignored as the will maintains the ultimate goal. The truly deadly fighter can even block out his own pain in this manner.


	14. Pocket Guide to the Empire, Third Edition: Orsinium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: None

The Orc homeland of Orsinium has had a troubled history. Indeed, for most of the past two thousand years Orsinium has existed only in the dreams of the Orc people. The current land, sometimes called Nova Orsinium, is the second incarnation of an Orc homeland in the Wrothgarian Mountain of High Rock. The first was a creation of the tenth century of the First Era, a refuge for Orsimer harried from High Rock, Cyrodiil, and Skyrim by the expansions of the Empires of the men and mer.

High in the mountains, far from their enemies, the Orc chieftain Torug gro-Igron brought his people together. A few huts grew into more permanent structures as word spread to the far-flung Orcs of Tamriel that there was a civilisation on the rise that would welcome them from their wanderings. If the Myth of Mauloch is to be believed, the Orcs of Orsimer had been pariah of the land for two hundred years, and if it is not true, their destitution was even longer. The dream of Orsinium was too beautiful not to be sought.

It is impossible to achieve an objective look at the reality of the first Orsinium. The chronicles of the time paint a picture of a fortress ruled by savage law, leading raids on its neighbours along the Bjoulsae River. According to Orc historians, though, it was a utopia, a peaceable land of agriculture and commerce. The truth is likely somewhere in between, but all written and archaeological evidence was destroyed in the Siege of Orsinium. For thirty years, a joint military force from Daggerfall, Sentinel, and the Ansei Order of Diagna attempted to breach the seemingly impenetrable walls of Torug gro-Igron’s fortress kingdom. In 1E 980, they succeeded, annihilating all who lived within, scattering the stones into dust.

The Orsimer exodus was long and particularly deleterious to the character of its people. They had never been well-regarded by the other inhabitants of Tamriel, but now, with no hope, they became little more than monsters. Other Orcs with vision attempted to create new homelands over the next three thousand years, but all were attacked and destroyed before they could take root.

In 3E 399, however, a new Orc visionary, Gortwog gro-Nagorm acquired the land near the former site of Orsinium, and began to construct a new city for his people. Graced by statues of Orc heroes such as Mauloch and Torug, and built of iron, Nova Orsinium seemed destined to provoke the same reaction by its neighbours as its predecessor did. Gortwog, however, proved a diplomatic as well as a political genius, and his land has prospered. Following the events of the Miracle of Peace, it now encompasses a substantial territory of central High Rock, and its application for elevation to Provincial status is under review by the Imperial authorities. Its recent alliance with its former foe in Wayrest shows promise for a stable future.

The only troubling sign for Orsinium is a religious conflict that has brewed over the last ten years. Traditionally, the Orcs have worshipped the Daedra Malacath (Mauloch) as their patron deity. Gortwog, however, has established a new priesthood devoted to the worship of Trinimac, the ancient hero of teh Orcs, who legend has it was devoured by Boethia and became the Daedra Malacath. The Orc King’s belief that Trinimac still lives and that Malacath is a separate entity, a demon whose aim was to keep the Orsimer pariah folk forever, is the official position of the shaman priests of Orsinium. A minority of traditionalists within the territory, and the majority of Orcs without, view this as heresy. There is fear among those who support Gortwog and Orsinium that turning their back on the Daedric Prince of the Bloody Oath is dangerous policy indeed.


	15. Th Vagaries of Magicka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Battlespire, Morrowind

[a passage from the text of THE VAGARIES OF MAGICKA]

“… but take care, lest power enfeeble the fundaments, and curtails the flow through the Congeries, except when functions be warranted. And safeguard that the Congeries shall not be abused by prideful wizards, confident in their skill and blinded by their ambitions. In this, hold the ordering of the Congeries among the oldest and most trusted of mages, and make secure this ordering through arcane codes and keys to confound even the most clever students.

"The Restorals must be most carefully guarded, for how often have even the wise lusted to overreach their bodies and souls with vitality and mana. And also must the Magicka Fountains be damped and banked, sanctioning their engendering only to the reconsecration of essential arcane engines and templates, and then only by common assent of the Council.”


	16. Pocket Guide to the Empire, Third Edition: Pyandonea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: None

It was once believed that the Maormer of Pyandonea were originally exiles from the Summerset Isles, but while it is likely they came from similar Aldmeri ancestors, they certainly did not come from Summerset. Translations of tapestries in the Crystal Tower tell the tale of a far older enmity. The Maormer were likely separated from the ancient Aldmer not in Summerset, but in their original homeland of Aldmeris.

Orgnum, their leader and self-styled “King,” according to the legend was a phenomenally wealthy Aldmer nobleman, who used his finances to launch a rebellion against the powers of the land. He and his followers were banished for this to a place separated from Aldmeris by an impenetrable mist, Pyandonea, “The Veil of Mist”. This boundary proved so effective that the followers of Orgnum never again disturbed their former countrymen. The new Aldmeri homeland of summerset, however, was not so lucky.

For much of Summerset’s history, the Maormer have launched attacks against their sister child of Aldmeris. Every one of these battles have been led by Orgnum himself who it seems is not only immortal but grows more youthful by the century. No historian, to the knowledge of the staff of the Imperial Geographic Society, has counted the number of wars and number of strategies employed against Summerset, but somehow each has proved, no matter how ingenious, an ultimate failure.

One attack in particular is worthy of mention as it gives us our only glimpse into the actual landscape of Pyandonea. In the year 2E 486, a small Maormeri fleet was sighted off the coast of Alinor, and King Hidellith ordered his navy to give chase. The navy followed the ships through uncharted waters, into an ambush in Pyandonea itself. Most of the Alinori navy was destroyed, but a single warship returned to Summerset to describe the land as a “sea jungle”. Massive plateaus spilling over with vegetation form mazes around valleys of ocean. Waving tendrils of kelp trap all but the Maormer’s own ships, and provide a well-camouflaged home for the sea serpents that are Orgnum’s guards and occasional mounts. Mist storms spill over the land, further disorienting one’s views. That even one ship survived the visit is a testament to the maritime genius of the Altmer.

The last documented appearance of the Maormer was in 3E 110 in the War of the Isle. The storm brewed by the Psijic of Artaeum, it was said, so annihilated Orgnum’s fleet that he was never again able to muster together enough of a force to dare another battle. The mists to the south reveal nothing to corroborate or refute this belief, but one can hope.


	17. Pocket Guide to the Empire, First Edition: Skyrim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: None

Skyrim, also known as the Old Kingdom or the Fatherland[1], was the first region of Tamriel settled by humans: the hardy, brave, warlike Nords, whose descendants still occupy this rugged land, and, although perhaps somewhat reduced from the legendary renown of their forebears of old, the Nords of the pure blood still unquestionably surpass the mixed races in all the manly virtues.

Exactly when the Nords first crossed the ice-choked Sea of Ghosts from Atmora, their original homeland, is uncertain. As recorded in the Song of Return, Ysgramor and his family first landed in Tamriel at Hsaarik Head, at the extreme northern tip of Skyrim’s Broken Cape, fleeing civil war in Atmora (then rather warmer than at present, as it seems to have supported a substantial population). These first settlers named the land “Mereth”, after the Elves that roamed the untamed wilderness which then covered the whole of Tamriel. For a time, relations between Men and Elves were harmonious, and the Nords throve in the new land, summoning more of their kin from the North to build the city of Saarthal, the site of which has recently been located by Imperial archaeologists in the vicinity of modern Winterhold. But the Elves saw that the vital young race would soon surpass their stagnant culture[2] if left unchecked, and fell upon the unsuspecting Nords in the infamous Night of Tears; Saarthal was burned, and only Ysgramor and two of his sons[3] fought free of the carnage and escaped to Atmora. The Elves, however, had reckoned without the indomitable spirit of the Nords. Gathering his legendary Five Hundred Companions (whose names are still recited every Thirteenth of Sun’s Dawn at the Feast of the Dead in Windhelm), Ysgramor returned to Tamriel with a vengeance, driving the Elves out of Skyrim and laying the foundations of the first human Empire.

It may be that the exploits of the near-mythical Ysgramor conflate the reigns of several early Nord Kings, as the Elves were not finally driven from the present boundaries of Skyrim until the reign of King Harald, the thirteenth of Ysgramor’s line, at the dawn of recorded history. King Harald is also remembered for being the first King to relinquish all holdings in Atmora; the Nords of Skyrim were now a separate people, whose faces were turned firmly toward their destiny, the conquest of the vast new land of Tamriel. Indeed, the history of the Nords is the history of humans in Tamriel; all the human races, with the exception of the Redguards, are descended from Nordic stock, although in some the ancient blood admittedly runs thin.

King Vrage the Gifted began the expansion that led to the First Empire of the Nords. Within a span of fifty years, Skyrim ruled all of northern Tamriel, including most of present-day High Rock, a deep stretch of the Nibenay Valley, and the whole of Morrowind. The Conquest of Morrowind was one of the epic clashes of the First Era, when ensued many a desperate contest between Nord and Dunmer in the hills and glades of that dire kingdom, still recalled by the songs of the minstrels in the alehouses of Skyrim. The system of succession in the First Empire is worthy of note, as it proved in the end to be the Empire’s undoing. By the early years of the First Empire, Skyrim was already divided into Holds, then ruled by a patchwork of clan-heads, kings, and councils (or moots), all of which paid fealty to the King of Skyrim. During the exceptionally long reign of King Harald, who died at 108 years of age and outlived all but three of his sons, a Moot was created, made up of representatives from each Hold, to choose the next King from qualified members of the royal family. Over the years, the Moot became permanent and acquired an increasing amount of power; by the reign King Borgas, the last of the Ysgramor dynasty, the Moot had become partisan and ineffective. Upon the murder[4] of King Borgas by the Wild Hunt (See _Aldmeri–Valenwood_ ), the Moot’s failure to appoint the obvious and capable Jarl Hanse of Winterhold sparked the disastrous Skyrim War of Succession, during which Skyrim lost control of its territories in High Rock, Morrowind, and Cyrodiil, never to regain them. The war was finally concluded in 1E420 with the Pact of Chieftains; henceforth, the Moot was convened only when a King died without direct heirs, and it has fulfilled this more limited role admirably. It has only been called upon three times in the intervening millennia, and the Skyrim succession has never again been disputed on the field of battle.

The lands of Skyrim is the most rugged on the continent, containing four of the five highest peaks in Tamriel (see _Places of Note: Throat of the World_ ). Only in the west do the mountains abate to the canyons and mesas of the Reach, by far the most cosmopolitan of the Holds of Skyrim, Nords of the pure blood holding only the barest majority according to the recent Imperial Census. The rest of Skyrim is a vertical world: the high ridges of the northwest-to-southeast slanting mountain ranges, cleft by deep, narrow valleys where most of the population resides. Along the sides of the river valleys, sturdy Nord farmers raise a wide variety of crops; wheat flourishes in the relatively temperate river bottoms, while only the snowberry bushes can survive in the high orchards near the treeline. The original Nord settlements were generally established on rocky crags overlooking a river valley; many of these villages still survive in the more isolated Holds, especially along the Morrowind frontier. In most of Skyrim, however, this defensive posture was deemed unnecessary by the mid-first era, and most cities and towns today lie on the valley floors, in some cases still overlooked by the picturesque ruins of the earlier settlement.

Nords are masters of wood and timber construction; many structures survive in use today that were built by the first settlers over 3,000 years ago. A fine example of Nord military engineering can be seen at Old Fort, one of the royal bastions constructed by the First Empire to guard its southern frontier. Towering walls of huge, irregular porphyry blocks fit together without seam or mortar, as if constructed by mythical Elhnofey rather than men.

The nine Holds present a varied aspect in people, government, and trade. The Reach could be mistaken for one of the petty kingdoms of High Rock; it is full of Bretons, Redguards, Cyrodiils, Elves of all stripes, and even a few misplaced _khajiit_. The northern and eastern Holds–Winterhold Hold, Eastmarch, The Rift, and the Pale, known collectively as the Old Holds–remain more isolated, by geography and choice, and the Nords there still hold true to the old ways. Outsiders are a rarity, usually a once-yearly visit from an itinerant peddler. The young men go out for weeks into the high peaks in the dead of winter, hunting the ice wraiths that give them claim to full status as citizens (a laughable practice that could serve as a model for the more “civilized” regions of the Empire). Here, too, the people still revere their hereditary leaders, while the other Holds have long been governed (after a fashion) by elected moots. It is fortunate for Skyrim and the Septim Empire that the people of the Old Holds have preserved the traditions of their forefathers. Skyrim has long been dormant, slumbering through the millennia while upstart conquerors bestrode the Arena of Tamriel. But now, a son of Skyrim[5] once again holds the world’s destiny in his hands. If Skyrim is to wake, its rebirth will be led by these true Nords who remain its best hope for the future.

[TRAVELER: I found many of these mountain villages almost empty of young men, who have been seduced into joining Septim’s army by promises of wealth and glory; the village elders see little hope of their sons ever returning.]

Snow Elves[6]

Nords attribute almost any misfortune or disaster to the machinations of the Falmer, or Snow Elves, be it crop failure, missing sheep, or a traveller lost crossing a high pass. These mythical beings are popularly believed to be the descendants of the original Elven population, and are said to reside in the remote mountain fastnesses that cover most of Skyrim. However, there is no tangible evidence that this Elven community survives outside the imaginations of superstitious villagers.

The Tongues

The Nords have long practiced a spiritual form of magic known as “The Way of the Voice”, based largely on their veneration of the Wind as the personification of Kynareth. Nords consider themselves to be the children of the sky, and the breath and the voice of a Nord is his vital essence. Through the use of the Voice, the vital power of a Nord can be articulated into a _Thu'um_ , or shout. Shouts can be used to sharpen blades or to strike enemies at a distance. Masters of the Voice are known as Tongues, and their power is legendary. They can call to specific people over hundreds of miles, and can move by casting a shout, appearing where it lands. The most powerful Tongues cannot speak without causing destruction. They must go gagged, and communicate through a sign language and through scribing runes.

In the days of the Conquest of Morrowind and the founding of the First Empire, the great Nord war chiefs–Derek the Tall, Jorg Helmbolg, Hoag Merkiller–were all Tongues. When they attacked a city, they needed no siege engines; the Tongues would form up in a wedge in front of the gatehouse, and draw a breath. When the leader let it out in a thu'um, the doors were blown in, and the axemen rushed into the city. Such were the men that forged the First Empire. But, alas for the Nords, one of the mightiest of all the Tongues, Jurgen Windcaller (or the Calm, as he is better known today), became converted to a pacifist creed that denounced use of the Voice for martial exploits. His philosophy prevailed, largely due to his unshakable mastery of the Voice–his victory was sealed in a legendary confrontation, where The Calm is said to have “swallowed the Shouts” of seventeen Tongues of the militant school for three days until his opponents all lay exhausted (and then became his disciples). Today, the most ancient and powerful of the Tongues live secluded on the highest peaks in contemplation, and have spoken once only in living memory, to announce the destiny of the young Tiber Septim (as recounted in Cyrodiil). In gratitude, the Emperor has recently endowed a new Imperial College of the Voice in Markarth[7], dedicated to returning the Way of the Voice to the ancient and honourable art of war. So it may be that the mighty deeds of the Nord heroes of old will soon be equalled or surpassed on the battlefields of the present day.

## Places of Note

Haafingar (Solitude)

The home of the famous Bards’ College, Haafingar is also one of Skyrim’s chief ports, and ships from up and down the coast can be found at her crowded quays, loading umber and salted cod for the markets of Wayrest, West Anvil, and Senchal. Founded during Skyrim’s long Alessian flirtation, the Bards’ College continues to flaunt a heretical streak, and its students are famous carousers, fittingly enough for their chosen trade. Students yearly invade the marketplace for a week of revelry, the climax of which is the burning of “King Olaf” in effigy, possibly a now-forgotten contender in the War of Succession. Graduates have no trouble finding employment in noble households across Tamriel, including the restored Imperial Court in Cyrodiil, but many still choose to follow in the wandering footsteps of illustrious alumni such as Callisos and Morachellis.

Windhelm

Once the capital of the First Empire, the palace of the Ysgramor dynasty still dominates the centre of the Old City. Windhelm was sacked during the War of Succession, and again by the Akaviri army of Ada'Soon Dir-Kamal; the Palace of the Kings is one of the few First Empire buildings that remains. Today, Windhelm remains the only sizable city in the otherwise determinedly rural Hold of Eastmarch, and serves as a base for Imperial troops guarding the Dunmeth Pass into Morrowind.

Throat of the World

This is the highest mountain in Skyrim, and the highest in Tamriel aside from Vvardenfell in Morrowind. The Nords believe men were formed on this mountain when the sky breathed onto the land. Hence the Song of Return refers not only to Ysgramor’s return to Tamriel after the destruction of Saarthal, but to the Nords’ return to what they believe was their original homeland. Pilgrims travel from across Skyrim to climb the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar, where the most ancient and honoured Greybeards[8] dwell in absolute silence in their quest to become ever more attuned to the voice of the sky.

## Annotations

Annotations by YR:

  1. “Most of the Nords I met seemed amused by this ‘Fatherland’ nonsense ~ the war with the 'Aldmeri Dominion’ was the furthest thing in their minds.”
  2. “!”
  3. “Ysgramor’s provocations and blasphemies have, of course, been long forgotten.”
  4. “Righteous slaying.”
  5. “A disputed claim.”
  6. “Uncle, I saw signs that might be Falmer boundary-runes, but nothing sure. If any survive, they are wary and withdrawn.”
  7. “Septim’s new college is staffed by hacks and charlatans ~ the so-called Grand Master is said to have formerly earned his living as a street performer in Windhelm ~ the students are scions of the most obsequious Nord families, hoping to curry favour with Tiber Septim’s New Order ~”
  8. “~ At last, a few Men worthy of respect. I met with an ancient Greybeard who could actually converse with me almost as an equal ~ my only such experience among the humans so far ~”




	18. Pocket Guide to the Empire, First Edition: Cyrodiil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: None

Cyrodilic history truly begins by the middle of the Alessian Reformation (see sidebar, Alessian Order), when civilisation and cultivation had allowed the region to emerge as a discernible Tamrielic power. Its culture and military strength centred in the sacred Nibenay Valley, a grassland expanse with a vast lake at its heart. Several small islands rose from this lake, and the capital city sprawled across them, crisscrossed with bridges and gondola ferries. Rivers connected the city-state to both its profitable outlying territories and the friendly inland ports of Skyrim and Pelletine. Rice and textiles were its main exports, along with more esoteric treasure-goods, such as hide armour, Moon sugar, and ancestor-silk. The sheer size of Cyrodiil’s physical theatre, and frequent intervals of Elven tyranny, made its unification as a while a slow and oft-interrupted process. At the height of Alessian influence, its western arm enjoyed a brief autonomy as the Colovian Estates, a demarcation that still colours an outsider’s view of the Empire today; often, Cyrodiil has two faces, East and West, and any discussion of its later social history must first be tempered with a summary of this early divergence.

Traditionally, the East is regarded as the region’s soul: magnanimous, tolerant, and administrative. It was in the rain forests of the Nibenay Valley that the original Cyro-Nordic tribes, the Nibenese, learned a self-reliance that separated them culturally and economically from Skyrim. The Elven harassment of the First Empire gave rise to an elite form of support troop for the Valley armies, the battlemage.[1] By the time the Alessian Doctrines filtered down from the north along the river trade ways, these mages had become the ruling aristocracy. They were quickly superseded by the Alessian priesthood, whose inexplicably charismatic religion found purchase in the lower classes. The traditional Nordic pantheon of Eight Divines was replaced by a baroque of veneration of ancestor spirits and god-animals, practices encouraged by the mutable-yet-monotheistic doctrines of the Alessian faith. The doctrines eventually codified nearly every aspect of Eastern culture. Restrictions against certain kings of meat-eating, coupled with the sentiments of the blossoming animal cults, soon made agriculture and husbandry nearly impossible. Thus, many of the Eastern Cyrodiils were forced to become merchants, which, over time, allowed the Nibenay Valley to become the wealthiest city-state in the region. Yet, under Alessian rule, no matter how rich or powerful the merchant class became it was still a tenanted citizenry, and the tithes they were forced to pay the priesthood were constant reminders of the state’s true masters.

The West is respected as Cyrodiil’s iron hand: firm, unwavering, and ever-vigilant. The Cyro-Nords that settled it had relinquished the fertile Nibenay Valley long ago, determined to conquer the frontier. Their primitive ferocity was disinclined to magic or the need for industry, preferring bloody engagement and plunder instead. After they had captured the Nedic port-cities of the Strident coast, the Westerners embarked on a mastery of the sea. Their earliest voyages took them as far as the Iliac Bay and the Cape of the Blue Divide, whose ports they annually raided until the (then) superior Yokudan navies arrived, ca. 1E819. By the time of the Alessian Reformation, the Westerners were firmly in a position, both geographically and socially, to resist its doctrines. Hammerfell, its northern border state, was now protected by its own holy-avenging order, the Ra Gada, whose bloody intolerance for foreigners acted as West Cyrodiil’s buffer against the Alessian priesthood. The pantheon of Eight Divines, therefore, survived unchecked in Western Cyrodiil, and relations with the increasingly Alessian East became strained. Ultimately, the West isolated itself from the theocratic hegemony of the Nibenay Valley, establishing an autonomous government, the Colovian Estates.

Things persisted in this vein until the Thrassian Plague of 1E2200 (see free Region - Thras), which decimated more than half of Tamriel’s population, particularly the western coastlands closest to Thras. After Bendu Olo, the Colovian king of Anvil, led the All Flags Navy to victory over the slugfolk of Thras, the glory of the Cyrodilic people became known throughout the world. The Colovian Estates began to overshadow the richer, more populous East then, which eventually lead to the War of Righteousness that ended Alessian rule. Control of the Nibenay Valley reverted to a mercantile-magocracy that was still far too arcane for Western tastes to entertain a reunification of Cyrodiil. Four hundred years would pass before that would happen, when Reman I, another proud son of the West, rallied the Valley’s army to join his own and fight the Akaviri Invasion of 1E2703. The Cyrodilic forces engaged the Akaviri in every region of the north, eliciting their surrender at last in the Pale Pass of Skyrim. By war’s end, the Cyrodiils found themselves not only united as a nation, but, too, responsible for the further protection of the northern human kingdoms at large. When the Elves of the Summerset Isles took umbrage at what they perceived as a renewed human imperialism, Reman was forced to prove them right. In order to prevent the Elves from attacking[2] the already weakened northern kingdoms, he offered the captive Akaviri Horde amnesty in his future dominions if they would serve as the nucleus of the Army of the Second Empire of Men. Reman’s own dynasty lasted for two hundred years, and in that span it conquered all the kingdoms of Tamriel except for Morrowind. Indeed, the Dark Elven Morag Tong were the doom of Reman’s heirs, and the death of last true Cyrodilic Emperor heralded the beginning of the Common Era.

The Cyrodilic Empire endured for another four hundred years under the auspices of the Akaviri Potentate (see sidebar, The Second Empire), fell, and suffered a similar span of years in the insurrections, misrules, and loss of power known as the Interregnum. Yet, the remnants of the Cyrodilic Empire refuse to die, even though East and West had become fragmented beyond measure. A petty king of the Colovian Estates, Cuhlecain, came to power and appointed an Atmoran as General of his legions. General Talos had studied in Skyrim, and used the thu'um. He could rout armies with his battle-cry and shout lesser men off their feet. A year later more than half of the Cyrodilic Empire was reclaimed or consolidated, and Cuhlecain saw fit to move into the Nibenay Valley, capture the capital city, and proclaim himself Emperor. By this point, High Rock and Skyrim, which bitterly opposed a return to Cyrodilic rule, gathered their armies for a joint invasion of the Colovian West. Talos met them on the field of Sancre Tor. The Nords that had come to cripple the Empire soon joined the General’s forces, for when they heard his thu'um they realised he was Skyrim’s son and the Heir to the Empires of Men. The Bretons were sent back to High Rock with tales of Cuhlecain’s new General, where they decided to combat the Emperor’s sorcery with their own. In CE854, a nightblade from the Western Reach made his way to the Imperial Palace at Nibenay. There, the Witchman assassinated the emperor, caught the Palace on fire, and slit the throat of General Talos. “But from the smouldering ruin he came, one hand to his neck and with Cuhlecain’s Crown in the other. The legions wept at the sight. His Northern magic had saved him, but the voice that led them would be more silent from that night on. His word could no longer rout an army with a roar, but he could still command one with a whisper. He took for himself a Cyrodilic name, Tiber Septim[3], and the Nordic Name of Kings, Ysmir, the Dragon of the North. And with those names he took, too, the Red Diamond Crown of the Cyrodiils, and became their True Emperor.” Thus was born the Third Empire of Men.

Cyrodiil in the Third Empire is the young, viral embodiment of its ancient heritage. Internally, it has undergone an incredible restoration–reconstruction of the ruined sections of the Imperial City is nearly complete, roads and cities destroyed in the Interregnum have been rebuilt, East and West are unified for the first time in four centuries. Cyrodiil’s present stability and strength have not been seen since the Reman Dynasty; indeed, they were born under similar circumstances–a Westerner winning the Eastern throne, forging them both into the greatest power in Tamriel. And now, in but twenty years time, Tiber Septim has secured Imperial authority in High Rock, Skyrim, and Hammerfell. Every human region stands with him against the Elven menace.[4] The Emperor has gracefully attributed his success to his peoples, the Colovians and the Nibenese, whose cultures we shall now treat in their current incarnation.

The Colovians[5] today still possess much of the frontier spirit of their ancestors. They are uncomplicated, self-sufficient, hearty, and extremely loyal to one another. Whenever the East would tremble under the weakness of a leader, the Colovians would withdraw unto themselves, always believing they were keeping the national spirit sage until the storm passed. They realise that the Nibenay Valley is the heart of the Empire and the cultural centre of its civilisation, but it is a fragile centre that can only be held together by the strength of character of its Emperor. When he falters, so do the Colovians. Yet when he is mighty, like Tiber Septim, they are his legions. Today, West Cyrodiils make up the majority of the soldiers in the Ruby Ranks. The Colovian nobility, all officers of the Imperial Legions or its West Navy, do not allow themselves the great expenditure of courtly life as is seen in the capital city. They prefer immaculate uniforms and stark standards hanging from the ceiling of their austere cliff-fortresses; to this day, they become a little perplexed[6] when they must visit the grandly decorated assault of colour that is the Emperor’s Palace. 

[TRAVELER: “Colovian officers have traditionally been appointed as provincial governors to the human regions of the Empire, as these often need the most forthright of the Emperor’s men.”]

By contrast, the Eastern people of Cyrodiil relish in garish costumes, bizarre tapestries, tattoos, brandings, and elaborate ceremony. Closer to the wellspring of civilisation, they are more given to philosophy and the evolution of ancient traditions. The Nibenese find the numinous in everything around them, and their different cults are too numerous to mention (the most famous are the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth, the Cult of Heroes, the Cult of Tiber Septim, and the Cult of Emperor Zero). To the Colovians, the ancestor worship and esoteric customs of the East can often be bizarre. Akaviri dragon-motifs are found in all quarters, from the high minaret bridges of the Imperial City to the paper hako skiffs that villagers use to wing their dead down the rivers. Thousands of workers ply the rice fields after the floodings, or clear the foliage of the surrounding jungle in the alternate seasons. Above them are the merchant-nobility, the temple priests and cult leaders, and the age-old aristocracy of the battlemages. The Emperor watches over them all from the towers of the Imperial City, as dragons circle overhead.

Alessian Order

This monotheistic religion was once very popular, but today only remnants of its faith remain. It started in the coastal jungle of what is now the Colovian west, where a prophet named Marukh, who had spoken to the “Enlightened One,” Saint Alessia, began to question the validity of Elven rule. These sentiments led to an increasingly abstract and unknowable depiction of a Single God. The Alessians were wise enough to realise that they had to incorporate the ancient polytheistic elements into their new religion for it to find a wide acceptance. The divine aspects worshipped by the various humans and Aldmeri were recognisable in the guise of the myriad saints and spirits of the evolving Alessian canon. It wasn’t long before the Order was the Authority on every religion in Tamriel, and their power grew to earthshaking proportions. Nearly a third of the First Era passed under their theocratic rule. When its priesthood had become too widespread to support itself, the Order began to fight among itself. With the severance of the territories of West Cyrodiil from the Empire, too much money and land had been lost. The War of Righteousness broke out, and the Order which had almost ruled the world undid itself in a ten year span.

The Second Empire

The Second Empire is divided into two stages: the Reman Dynasty and the Akaviri Potentate. As mentioned in the text, after the Akaviri raiders had been defeated, Reman recruited many of them into his service. Later Cyrodiils traditionally kept a House Guard of Akaviri, and the Emperor’s chief advisor, the Potentate, was usually of Akaviri descent. Other Akaviri slaves played a significant part in establishing the administrative structures of the Second Empire, as well as in the training of its military. The restructured Imperial legions, which learned an unparalleled measure of coherence, logistics, and discipline from the Akaviri, began to easily overwhelm the other regional armies; soon every region in Tamriel belonged to Cyrodiil except for Morrowind. After the assassination of Reman’s last heir by the Dark Elven Morag Tong during the disastrous Four Score War, control of the Empire reverted to the Akaviri Potentate. They have left a visible mark on the Empire of today. The high crafts of daikatanas and dragonscale armour came from the Akavir, as did the banners and military dress of Septim’s shock troops, the Blades. The Red Dragons that have come to represent the Empire and the Imperial City were originally Akaviri war mounts. Akaviri surnames are rare and prized possessions among the Cyrodilic citizenry of today, and there are trace facial features of the Akaviri in many distinguished Cyrodilic families. Some colonies of “true Akaviri” still exist in both the Empire and its border regions, but they are named so only for their practices and customs than for the purity of their blood.

The Song of Tiber Septim[7]

From the Odes:

“He was born in Atmora as Talos, ‘Stormcrown’ in the language of the ancient Elhnofey, and it was from that shore he sailed. He spent his youth in Skyrim among the Nords. There he learned much from the Tongues and their chieftains and their ways of war. At twenty he led the invasion of Old Hrol'dan, taking it back from the Witchmen of High Rock and their kinsmen.

"Soon the Greybeards made known that they were restless. Already the storms had begun from their murmurs. The Greybeards were going to Speak. The surrounding villages were abandoned as the people fled the coming blast.

"The villagers warned Talos to turn back, for he was marching to the mountain where the Greybeards dwelt.

"Inside he went, and on seeing him they removed their gags. When they spoke his name the World shook.

"The Tongues of Skyrim told the son of Atmora that he had come to rule Tamriel and that he must travel south to do so.

"And it is true that Talos did come to Cyrodiil shortly after the Battle of Old Hrol'dan.

"And it is true that a great storm preceded his arrival.”

## The Cult of the Ancestor-Moth

For long the Cyro-Nordics had exported ancestor-silks to other regions, simple yet exotic shawls woven from the silks of an indigenous gypsy moth and inscribed with the requisite genealogy of its buyer. Under the Cult, however, ancestor and moth became synonymous: the singing and hymnal spirits of one’s forebears are caught in a special silk-gathering ritual, the resource of which is used to create any manner of vestment or costume. The swishing of this material during normal movement reproduces the resplendent ancestral chorus contained therein–it quickly became a sacred custom among the early Nibenese, which has persisted to the present day. Monks of the higher orders of the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth are able to forego the magical ritual needed to enchant this fabric, and, indeed, prefer instead to wear the moths about the neck and face. They are able to attract the ancestor-moths through the application of finely ground bark-dust gathered from the gypsy moth’s favourite tree, and through the sub-vocalisation of certain mantras. They must chant the mantras constantly to maintain skin contact with the ancestor-moths, a discipline that they endure for the sake of some cosmic balance. When a monk interrupts these mantras, in conversation for example, the moths burst from him in glorious fashion every time he speaks, only to light back upon his skin when he resumes the inaudible chant.

The Cult of Emperor Zero

This cult, started by Tiber Septim himself, was established in the honour of Cuhlecain, the Emperor Zero. Though Cuhlecain did not technically recapture all of Cyrodiil’s holdings during this time, he is worthy of worship for the wisdom he showed in appointing Talos as his General, and the bravery he showed when retaking the Imperial City, two events that were crucial in restoring the glory of the new Cyrodilic Empire. He is therefore to be remembered in our prayers. The topiary-mages have begun to shape his aspect in the Palace gardens, where in the future Cuhlecain may share his insights with Tiber Septim in the same manner as the rest of the blessed hedgery heads of Green Emperor Road.

## Places of Note

Indeed, if the history of the Nords is the history of humans on Tamriel, then Cyrodiil is the throne from which they will decide their destiny. It is the largest region of the continent, and most is endless jungle. Its centre, the grassland of the Nibenay Valley, is enclosed by an equatorial rain forest and broken up by rivers. As one travels south along these rivers, the more subtropical it becomes, until finally the land gives way to the swamps of Argonia and the placid waters of the Topal Bay.

The elevation rises gradually to the west and sharply to the north. Between its western coast and its central valley there are all manners of deciduous forest and mangroves, becoming sparser towards the ocean. The western coast is a wet-dry area, and from Rihad border to Anvil to the northernmost Valenwood villages forest fires are common in summer. There are a few major roads to the west, river paths to the north, and even a canopy tunnel to the Velothi Mountains, but most of Cyrodiil is a river-based society surrounded by jungle.

The Imperial City[8]

Refayj’s famous declaration, “There is but one city in the Imperial Province,–” may strike the citizens of the Colovian west as mildly insulting, until perhaps they hear the rest of the remark, which continues, “–but in one city in Tamriel, but one city in the World; that, my brothers, is the city of the Cyrodiils.” From the shore it is hard to tell what is city and what is Palace, for it all rises from the islands of the lake towards the sky in a stretch of gold. Whole neighbourhoods rest on the jewelled bridges that connect the islands together. Gondolas and river-ships sail along the watery avenues of its flooded lower dwellings. Moth-priests walk by in a cloud of ancestors; House Guards hold exceptionally long daikatanas crossed at intersections, adorned with ribbons and dragon-flags; and the newly arrived Western legionnaires sweat in the humid air. The river mouth is tainted red from the tinmi soil of the shore, and river dragons rust their hides in its waters. Across the lake the Imperial City continues, merging into the villages of the southern red river and ruins left from the Interregnum.

The Emperor’s Palace is a crown of sun rays, surrounded by his magical gardens. One garden path is known as Green Emperor Road–here, topiaries of the heads of past Emperors have been shaped by sorcery and can speak. When one must advise Tiber Septim, birds are drawn to the hedgery head, using their songs as its voice and moving its branches for the needed expressions.

## Annotations

Annotations by YR:

  1. “Our old students forget themselves.”
  2. “Ha!”
  3. “Even those humans who revile Talos as a traitor, oathbreaker, and scoundrel pay homage to his skill in obtaining his ends without resort to warfare.”
  4. “Truly, a doubtful statement.”
  5. “An observation: Colovians feel superior to Nibenese as a people, yet, because the East is the Empire’s "heart”, the Westerners are often neglected in Cyrodiil ~ Even though the throne is taken continually by Kings from the West, the Nibenese quickly assimilate them into their ranks.“
  6. "Author oddly sympathetic to the West–a Colovian scribe, perhaps?”
  7. “It is certain that the tale of Talos’ conquest of the Cyrodiil through use of his voice is not literally true–that kind of thu'um is now forbidden. This is all obviously a poetic reference, crafted to satisfy the popular human lust for blood and magic. This young myth is perhaps inspired by Talos’ reputation for shrewd diplomacy, attested by even his greatest critics, which permitted him to scheme and bargain his way into the capital city–which he lacked the armies or funds to conquer by dint of force.”
  8. “Of course no mention of the Aldmeri Citadel the capital city was built upon–or the crimes perpetrated there in the previous era…”




	19. Details of the Midyear Mayhem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Online

Hearken to the heart of Tamriel - the faithful of St. Alessia have returned!

Our Imperial blood runs true, yet we have seen the tide turn in favour of your Alliance. Please accept our supplication, and our blessings, at your gate to Cyrodiil or in any battleground camp in Tamriel!


	20. Lady Balina's Wedding Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Online

Lady Balina,

You and (Guest) are cordially invited to attend the union between Lord Cosh at Abah’s Landing and Magnifica Falorah al-Danobia, Jewel of Taneth, at Hubalajad Palace. Appropriate attire is required.

Entertainment and food will be provided well into the evening until vows are exchanged within the palace.

Each attendee is expected to bring a gift.

– Muazel, personal assistant to Lord Cosh


	21. Kagouti Mating Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Morrowind

Notes - Kagouti Mating Habits

Edras Oril

Observations made on wild kagouti in southeastern Morrowind.

Kagouti do not seem to travel in large packs, as previously believed. Perhaps they group into larger packs when mating season is imminent.

Females seem to be dominant sex. Males will bring gifts of food in exchange for mating advantage. Males sometimes attacked.

Loud vocalizations heard exchanged (believed to be from males), especially at night. Fascinating.

Males do not seem to engage in physical confrontation for reproductive rights. Some posturing, but no conflict.

All kagouti display increased aggressiveness during mating. Must be careful not to be seen.

Mating kagouti found to be increasingly territorial.


	22. Pocket Guide to the Empire, Third Edition: Aldmeris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: None

Virtually nothing is known of the elven homeland. Its location, its environment, its politics, its religion, even its current existence are the stuff of conjecture. Translation from its ancient tapestries and texts in the Crystal Tower of Summerset have yielded only the barest of sketches of a beautiful but very strange land. In no representation of Aldmeris are there any trees or life but the Aldmer themselves. It appears always as an endless city, built upon itself over and over again, until no nature remains at all. The highest towers are reserved for interring the dead, a tradition continued on the Crystal Tower itself.

What had happened in Aldmeris since the elves who settled in Tamriel left is perhaps the oldest of all mysteries. For countless centuries, adventurers have sought “Lost Aldmeris”, only to return disappointed, if they return at all. Some say that Aldmeris was sunk into the sea by the angry gods of the Aldmer. Others claim that the elven homeland has left Mundus, and will only return when the races of mer are united as one.


	23. Galtis Guvron's Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Morrowind

Here is another crate of statues. These are to be placed here in Ald'ruhn. Place the statues quickly and wisely. Destroy this note. Do not disappoint me again.


	24. War of the First Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Morrowind, Skyrim

This account by the Imperial scholar Agrippa Fundilius is based on various Imperial and Dunmer sources, and written for Western readers.

The War of the First Council was a First Era religious conflict between the secular Dunmer Houses Dwemer and Dagoth and the orthodox Dunmer Houses Indoril, Redoran, Dres, Hlaalu, and House Telvanni. The First Council was the first pan-Dunmer governing body, which collapsed over disputes about sorceries and enchantments practiced by the Dwemer and declared profane by the other Houses.

The Secular Houses, less numerous, but politically and magically more advanced, and aided by Nord and Orc clans drawn by promise of land and booty, initially campaigned with great success in the north of Morrowind, and occupied much of the land now comprising Redoran, Vvardenfell, and Telvanni District. The Orthodox Houses, widely dispersed and poorly organised, suffered defeat after defeat until Nerevar was made general of all House troops and levies.

Nerevar secured the aid of nomad barbarian tribesmen, and contrived to force a major battle at the Secular stronghold of Red Mountain on Vvardenfell. The Secular forces were outmaneuvered and defeated with the help of Ashlander scouts, and the survivors forced to take refuge in the Dwemer stronghold at Red Mountain.

After a brief siege, treason permitted Nerevar and his troops to enter the stronghold, where the Secular leaders were slain, and Nerevar mortally wounded. General slaughter followed, and Houses Dwemer and Dagoth were exterminated. Nerevar died shortly thereafter of his wounds.

Three of Nerevar’s associates among the Orthodox Houses, Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil, succeeded to control of the re-created First Council, renamed the Grand Council of Morrowind, and went on to be come the god-kings and immortal rulers of Morrowind known as the Tribunal, or Almsivi.


	25. Kasura's Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Online

Legends of the Dragonguard can be found throughout Tamriel. They reportedly developed Dragon hunting weaponry and techniques, and it was by their blades that Dragons became almost extinct in our lands. Unfortunately, the great Dragonguard order of old has long since been disbanded. If I am to gain their wisdom, it must be from the histories, documents, and artefacts they left behind.

I believe I have discovered two Dragonguard tombs, fairly close together. It was common for soldiers to be buried with their personal possessions, which I hope will provide the information we seek. Each journal I find, each relic I uncover, provides another tool to aid us against the Dragons invading Elsweyr.

Both tombs seem to be protected by a powerful magic which hides the entrances from sight. Luckily, my former student was able to find a journal describing Dragonguard burial practices. It outlines the customs of placing three glyphs near a tomb's entrance, which will activate in the presence of a Dragonguard seal. These three glyphs should provide the key to the entrance to the tomb.

However, both tombs are located in perilous locations. I worry that visiting both will take up far too much time, and my abbey and students await me back in Hammerfell. For this task, I require the aid of another. This helper must locate the northern, southern, and eastern glyph, then use what they find to open the tomb.

I also came across a most curious phrase. I'm certain it's integral to entering the tomb, though I'm unsure how. It is my hope that once the entrance is revealed, the phrase's meaning will also become clear.

"With our Blades, Honour is sealed. With Bravery, the Way is revealed."


	26. Council Hall Scroll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Shadowkey

Meya Violet was a great merchant captain. Her selfless skills of negotiation made the Dragonstar guild great. No one know what took her that night. We honour her, and pray we can sustain her greatness.


	27. Journal of Claudius Arcadia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Oblivion

Entry 1: I’ve made up my mind. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll have my revenge! I’ve heard the stories about the Dark Brotherhood, about how they’ll come to you if you perform some kind of ritual to their Night Mother. I don’t know who or what the Night Mother is, and I don’t give a damn! If I can do it, I will. I’ll give the Dark Brotherhood anything they want, so long as they do what I can’t…

Entry 2: I’ve learned how to perform the ritual and have procured the necessary items. The bones and skull were easy enough to get, but the heart and flesh were a bit more difficult. I’ll make the preparations in the cellar.

Entry 3: It worked! Last night I was visited by someone, a representative from the Dark Brotherhood! The Night Mother heard my prayers! The money was exchanged, and the man promised me I would have satisfaction. I don’t know where he’s hiding, and neither does the Dark Brotherhood, but as soon as he’s located, Rufio will die!


	28. Reptilian Appetite Conditioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Shivering Isles

**Reptilian Appetite Conditioning**

Experiment Setup and Hypothesis Reptilian Appetite Conditioning

I have raised these Baliwogs and Scalon together, from hatchling to adult. I inflicted great pain on them when they were aggressive towards each other, and rewarded them when they showed aggression towards others. They have since acquired an almost familial bond, normally expressed in warm-blooded creatures. See previous experiment logs for details.

For the last month, I have been starving them in separate cages, allowing them occasionally to eat, but only tiny amounts of reptilian flesh.

I have procured a fatty Breton of previously luxurious lifestyle. There is not an ounce of muscle on him. He should be a most tempting snack, indeed. But we shall see!

I shall return soon to run the experiment. There is still some time left to starve the reptiles until they are most desperate.


	29. Eshraf's Journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Elder Scrolls Online: Murkmire

<Most of the pages have been torn out. This is what remains.>

\--certain someone is watching me. I'd bet a bucket of gold that it's one of those damned Naga. They nearly got me at the Tsona-Geeva ruins, but I grew up in the alleys of Sentinel. These lizards can't catch me!

I wish I hadn't left my damned backpack behind! Famia's going to give me those sad puppy-dog-eyes when I tell her I lost the vakka stone. Not looking forward to that. Luckily, it seems like Dinia left her bag here. That's something, at least.

Anyway, that's enough excitement for one day. I'll spend the night here in the hut and head back to Lilmoth in the morning. Some days I really hate this place!


	30. Letter from the Necromancers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Daggerfall

My Dear, Dear {...}, 

Sorry for this inelegant but expedential means of communication. Our enemies have made quite a mess of your, well, shall we say, not-quite-but-almost snow white life. As much as we respect and admire thievery, as you did not commit these particular honours, we think it best that you expose the true architect to the eyes and nooses of the admiring public. the person with whom it would be most efficacious for you to speak is {...}, a {...} you may find lolling about {...}. You will probably not find {her/him} the friendliest of persons. After all, {she/he} is the witness who saw you at {...}'s, stealing the {...}. Nevertheless, with a little effort, you might gain some information from the encounter. Good luck, my dear. There is surely nothing more tiresome than being accused of an act of wanton, diabolic avarice for which you are uncharacteristically innocent. 

\-- The Necromancers


	31. Kelbarn's To-Do List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Elder Scrolls Online: Greymoor

Kelbarn's To-Do List

My Goals for Today

Find some mining samples and bring them to that damn Ingfred in Dusktown

Finish my poem to Inguya

In the heart of Blackreach   
You have stolen mine   
And so I

Skreech?   
You are my peach?   
I beseech?


	32. Eydis's Journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Skyrim: Dragonborn

I finally caved and told Ulyn that I would help him retrieve this "Visage of Mzund" that he has been so obsessed over. Why he wants some dwarven helmet so much is beyond me, but I owe him, so whatever.

We've stopped to take a breather after crossing over gears. This place is amazing but it seems to serve no purpose that I can tell. Why the dwarves would waste so much good metal on gears, pipes, and constructs is completely beyond me. We had to fight off several of the metal spiders while spinning around on the gears. Got so dizzy we almost fell off.


	33. The Coiled Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Elder Scrolls Online

Ghost Snake blesses the worthy.

Ghost Snake devours the unworthy.

Ghost Snake lives upon the coiled path. Once, the river that ran beside the Coiled Path was straight and long, but Ghost Snake did not like that. He commanded the beast to dig. He commanded the People to carve the ground. He commanded the rocks and water to move. Now path and river together coil like a waiting snake.

The Coiled Path is not an easy path to walk, for Ghost Snake does not wish it to be. Ghost Snake hunts the path for prey, and his victims rise as spirits. These spirits forever walk the path's twists and turns, never to escape, until Ghost Snake devours their essence as he consumed their weak flesh.

The Coiled Path is more than a road of a river. It is a path to wisdom, to cunning, to insight. Ghost Snake's servants do not see the straight and narrow path. Instead, Ghost Snake grants his blessings so his servants may overcome treachery and hardship. Ghost Snake hisses his wisdom so that his servants may navigate the perils of life.

The Coiled Path is not for the weak. Ghost Snake must feed, and if his servants cannot secure the prey, Ghost Snake will rightfully devour those who serve him.

Ghost Snake is the father of a thousand-thousand serpents. Wherever the spirits of Ghost Snake's victims gather, his serpentine children thrive.

We who serve Ghost Snake have learned our lessons well. Do not take the easy path. Do not forget what lies underfoot, waiting to betray you. Do not forget the hidden daggers of your foes. And always listen for slithering whispers on the wind.

I write these words to receive Ghost Snake's righteous blessing. Life contains no justice. Life offers no mercy. Life is not easy. The only truth lies along the deceptive shores of the Coiled Path, and it is whispered by the Ghost Snake.

Know this or flee. Flee, and we will find you.

When Ghost Snake finds you, he will bless you. Or you will die.


	34. Khajiiti Arms and Armour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearances: Elder Scrolls Online

For a race living in the oppressively hot climate of Elsweyr, it is impractical in most cases for them to wear heavy clothing and armour, and the Cat-Folk's naturally lithe frame and dexterity favours more lightweight protection. The Khajiiti abhor restraint and encumbrance, and their craftsfolk are diligent about providing armour to augment their prowling form. At its lightest, Khajiiti armour is often mistaken for well-appointed (but flamboyant) clothing. Quilted or padded cloth adorns the midriff and vital areas. This is augmented with vivid patterns of colour and accented with a loose shawl, ribbons, or trinkets--an outfit that would result in mocking insults if worn by a race less decadent and hedonistic.

For battles where the Khajiit expects punishment, they favour cloth and leather greaves, gauntlets, and a light helmet: this allows for supremely agile movement without sacrificing speed (or fashion).

For this race of acrobats, even the heaviest Khajiiti armour is loose-fitting but actually has lacquered metal plates laced together with leather, under which is an embroidered tunic, completed with a helmet of of fluted silver and durable linen. It is only under the most harrowing of conditions that the Khajiit will don full battle armour.

As for weaponry, curved scimitars, sabers and knives, or punch daggers serve as an elongation of their own slashing, clawed hands. Occasionally these claw shapes extend to ritual tridents and the savage points on their longbow arrows or javelins.


End file.
